


Drowning

by thawrecka



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thawrecka/pseuds/thawrecka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy dreams of drowning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

The world has blurry edges. The sun shines brighter than it should.

In the front of the car mom and dad argue, the words they know by heart. Their voices yell louder but fade out into a distance, the words losing their form and shape. The red blur of dad hitting the steering wheel is accompanied by mom's yellowish screech.

The radio plays fuzz, wrapping me in the crackling noise of this shattered morning. Beside me, in the back seat, Dawn flickers in and out.

The road turns into a bridge over sparkling, liquid blue.

We drive over the bridge into the clear blue water, the car going down without a fight. Mom and dad continue to argue, their words disappearing into the impact of the splash.

Mom and dad disappear and it's just me and Dawn trapped in the back seat. The doors will not open and the windows are shut tight, pretty blue swirls crushing us in. I reach for her and she flickers away a last time, the sound of my name on her lips warping through the water. My heavy metal cage dissolves.

After that there is nothing but water and my sinking body. Down, further I go, until I'm at the depth where even the light can't pierce. Water fills my lungs, soft and wet and choking me to death. I do not fight the downward pull of the water and I let the darkness swallow me whole.

I wake.

My bones creak in mocking as I move across my room. In the mirror eyes that should be dead look upon a body which decomposed. Hands that clawed through dirt clench fists.

The pictures covering the mirror are smiling, reds and golds in the shadow of night. My friends look at me from little squares of paper, happy in the belief they've saved me. I hate it; this stretched bag of flesh they've pulled me back in to. Do they know what they've done?


End file.
